Amor
by readyslavery
Summary: The Pevensies are losing faith, hope and belief. Can the new family across the road help restore it to two of them in particular? A story of love, loss and religion. [post SilverChair, pre LastBattle]
1. Lost Faith

_Disclaimer: Narnia and the characters you recognise belong to C.S. Lewis._

**A/N: This is a story dealing with Christianity, love and loss. It's strange, as I'm an athiest who's never even been to church, that I'm writing something like this - don't worry, however, as I'm going to absolutely no condemning of faith or anything of the sort. This include (alas) some Peter/OC and Lucy/OC, but I'm hoping it's done in a way that isn't simply to give them both love interests. If you've read my fic _Dubium_** **you might want to know that this takes place just as Eustace and Jill leave (not that I've actually written that far yet) and if you haven't, don't worry, that story doesn't apply to this one. :)**

**Amor, the title, translates roughly to 'love' in Latin.**

xx

_The Great Hall was filled with joyous laughter and the sounds of sweet, cheerful music. It was lit by large lanterns that gave the room a dim glow, dipping all of the dancing creatures in a hazy, orange light. The food, laid out on the long table, was exquisite and rich. The dresses that the women wore were simple but stunning. The tunics the men wore were bright and comfortable. Talking Beasts, fauns, centaurs, dryads, nymphs and others waltzed around the room, with a sprinkling of humans._

_It was the most lavish celebration Cair Paravel had seen in a long time; the fifth anniversary of the Kings and Queens' coronations. The four monarchs sat in the centre of the table, talking, laughing and feasting. Everybody was in high spirits, but none so more than the monarchs, who's chatter and celebration was the loudest._

_Queen Lucy the Valiant, the youngest of them all, sat next to her brother, King Peter the Magnificent. They talked of defeated the White Witch all those years ago, and of their coronation, and of the brilliant party they were holding. Queen Lucy was ecstatic; she simply loved parties and feasts, and was enjoying this more than she ever had before. At fourteen years old, the allure of dresses and dancing had grown strong, though she found battles just as thrilling._

"_My Queen, may you do me the honour of dancing?" a young, respected Narnian lord asked, bowing low and offering her his hand. Thrilled, she consented, and together they proceeded into the crowds. He was handsome, and around her age, and Queen Lucy couldn't help but find him rather sweet. A faint blush came to her cheeks as they danced across the hall. She could feel both King Edmund and King Peter's protective gaze on her, but ignored them. A dance was merely a dance._

"_You dance quite as well as any faun can," he complimented her, and she smiled. Her dearest friend Mr Tumnus had taught her the nimble steps of Narnian dance, and she had been practising with him in preparation for this night._

"_You must have been taught by a great faun, yourself, Lord Falcwin, for your step is as light as anyone's," she laughed. The merry song came to an end, and as the musicians prepared to strike up another song, Lord Falcwin led Queen Lucy to the side of the hall. Here, it was less crowded, but the burn of her siblings' eyes still bore into the young Queen._

"_Your Majesty," the young Lord smiled, though nervously. "I do not expect you to accept this, or to even consider me worthy of your grace and beauty, but I cannot help but ask - will you accept my most humble hand in marriage?"_

_And all Queen Lucy could think about was that the High King, and King Edmund were marching over as quickly as possible, twin expressions of concern and alarm on their faces._

_xxx_

Lucy awoke, suddenly. She immediately regretted doing so. The memory had been so sweet, but oh so painful. Quite alarmingly, she found herself crying, as it had been for so many, many nights. There was always the bittersweet dream, the memories, and then there were tears. She muffled them with her sheets, trying to stop the woeful feelings wash over her. She longed to return.

Not one day had gone since she'd gone to Narnia last had she not thought of it. Her kingdom; her true home. The great dance in her beloved Cair Paravel and her first proposal were just one of the things she always thought about. There were her friends; Mr Tumnus, Caspian, Trumpkin, Orieus, Reepicheep and countless others. Most of all, there was Aslan. Dear, dear Aslan. Her crying intensified, her whole body shaking with it.

Oh, Aslan. Was she never to see him again? The beautiful eyes that could complete her entire being with just one glance. The soft, golden fur that felt like silk to touch. His mere presence making her feel like she was truly worth something, truly a Queen. She had tried so hard to find him in this world. She really had. But it was hopeless. She felt so lonely in England.

She curled herself tightly into a ball, but the tears didn't stop. Why would they? She was still here, in her small, cosy bedroom, still alone and torn from the land she loved. No longer could she ride bareback across the beautiful flower-strewn fields, no longer could she have long talks with the dryads, no longer could she be valiant.

Her bedroom door suddenly swung open, and there was the noise of somebody entering, and shutting the door behind them. She tried to stop her crying to no avail; if the intruder heard, the intruder heard. She could easily make up a lie as to why she was in such a state.

"Lu?" came a soft, concerned voice. In the darkness, she could vaguely make out the shape of a boy, standing by her bed. "It's Edmund. I was passing and I heard you. What's wrong?"

"Oh, Edmund," she sobbed, groping around in the darkness to find him. She finally did, and put her arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder. "It's Narnia. It always is Narnia. I want to go back."

"Lucy," Edmund sighed, softly, sadly, "I know it's hard. I miss it too. There are times that I feel like nothing is worth my time in this world, now that I've been there."

"Exactly," she wept, clinging to him. She felt his hands run through her hair comfortingly.

"It's not going to go away, the pain," he whispered gravely. "But neither are the fond memories. Or the knowledge of it. Aslan said we'd find him here, and he wouldn't lie to us. It must only be a matter of time before we do. Until then we shall have to be as close to Narnia as possible - meaning that you have to try and be valiant, Lu."

"What can I do, in this world, being valiant? In Narnia I could fight battles and good causes - here I make no difference wherever I go. I'm just another girl."

"You're not," her brother replied, firmly. "You're Queen Lucy, the Valiant. You're a _Queen_, Lu. Think of all the adventures we've had, the people we've met. No other girl, aside from Susan, of course, has managed to have that!"

"That makes it worse," she murmured, thickly, trying to stem her tears. "It's the knowledge of it that hurts. It's the knowledge that it goes on without us; it doesn't need us anymore."

"Yes, it does," he said, almost sternly. "You know what Aslan said, he said we'll always be Kings and Queens. We'll get back someday, of course we will. Come now, Lu, you don't need to cry."

"You're right," Lucy mumbled, pulling away from her brother and wiping her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Ed, it just sometimes gets too much."

"I know," he sighed, heavily. "I honestly know. We're all going through it."

"Thanks, Edmund." She gave him half a smile, burying herself under her covers once more. Edmund and her hadn't talked for a long while, not properly anyway, and it was a comfort to her to know he wasn't following Susan's path and renouncing Narnia as his former home.

"Anytime," he chortled, ruffling her blonde hair and straightening up, stretching. "It's awfully late and I'd better be off to bed. Come and see me if you ever need to talk, alright?"

"I will," she promised, nestling her head into her pillow, and she heard her older brother sigh lightly before leaving the room, the door shutting gently behind him. Even if she was still in pain, still raw from her loss, she was relieved to have siblings - no, more than that, best friends - who understood and would always be there for her.

xxx

Peter slowly made his way up the stairs, blinking sleepily and running a tired hand through his hair. The week had been exhausting; looking for work around the town, bidding farewell to his cousin Eustace and Eustace's friend, Jill, as well as helping his father garden as the last of the summer filtered away. He needed a good night's sleep, and then he felt sure he'd feel more revived sufficiently for the weekend.

Once at the top of the stairs, he yawned, shook himself and carried on, down the corridor. First Susan's room, then a spare room, then Lucy's…

He came to a sudden halt outside his youngest sister's door; there were sounds behind it, soft chatter, and, he realised, horrified, _crying_. It was evidently a girl's tears, he could tell, and the low, comforting voice must be Edmund's. Feeling a little guilty at doing so, Peter leant towards to door to listen to the conversation.

"You're Queen Lucy, the Valiant. You're a _Queen_, Lu. Think of all the adventures we've had, the people we've met. No other girl, aside from Susan, of course, has managed to have that!" Edmund was whispering, evidently desperate for his little sister to understand what he was trying to say.

"That makes it worse," Lucy muttered in reply, voice thick with tears. "It's the knowledge of it that hurts. It's the knowledge that it goes on without us; it doesn't need us anymore."

Peter withdrew from the door, feeling as though he had been hit in the stomach. He blinked a few times, then hastily made his way down to his bedroom, trying to keep his thoughts as far away from what he had just heard as possible. It was as though ice had flooded through him, ice that doused even his weariness in it's relentless journey.

He was soon in his room, and sank down to sit on his bed, hardly knowing what to think anymore. _It goes on without us; it doesn't need us anymore._ Peter had lost count of how many times before he'd felt the same, every night, as he curls up underneath his covers and remembers the days long gone, the days when he really was somebody, really meant something.

One part of him wanted to go and see if Lucy is okay, to reassure her as Edmund was so good at doing. Another part of him wanted to be like Susan and forget, or pretend to, finally moving on and making a life for himself in _this_ world. The last part of him just yearned, desperately, to somehow get home. Home being his _real_ home, his beloved Narnia, his Kingdom.

He dressed for bed, and then made his way over to the desk at the side of his room. There was a washbowl by it, and he splashed the water into his face, remembering the cool sea breeze that used to hit him all those years ago. When he caught sight of himself in the mirror, turning back to his bed, he saw his reflection. A man of twenty, almost twenty one, feeling both impossibly younger and impossibly older.

Peter got into bed, and simply lay there, staring out into the darkness, Lucy's words still running unimpeded through his mind. Oh, Narnia … oh, _Aslan_ … Ashamed, he felt tears rising into his eyes, and so quickly blinked them away. Who was he to judge what the Great Lion had chosen for him? He should do as he was told to, looking for Aslan in this world.

It had been hard. He went to Church every other Sunday and prayed with the others, but his heart was not always in it. As he stared up into the iconic faces of those magnificent religious figures, he couldn't help but think how fake they all seemed, these artificial depictions, when he had experienced true wonder and holiness. Afterward, he felt blasphemous, and he never spoke of his thoughts to the others.

He couldn't cry in the night like Lucy did. He couldn't expect his siblings to come in and comfort him like they all did her. He was the oldest, the most responsible, the one who cared but shouldn't need caring for. If faced with another in those dark hours of misery and doubt, he wouldn't know how to act. He should have been the giver, not the taker.

Before he dropped off that night, he thought of last Sunday, sat in the pew in Church, raising his head after prayer. There on the stone wall next to him was a brightly coloured picture of Saint Peter, blonde and strong-chested, denying his knowledge of Jesus after it had been predicted he would do so, a tear rolling down his rosy cheeks.

He remembered, as sleep drowned him, the horror and familiarity that struck him, seeing the picture, and the tear that slid down his own cheek as he left the Church, hot liquid rolling down burning, guilty skin.

xxx

_Once King Peter and King Edmund had dealt with Lucy's first suitor (much to her seeming chagrin), King Edmund bid his brother farewell to go and ask a dryad to dance. King Peter took a moment to survey his wondrous surroundings, the delight swelling inside him. Couples danced and laughed and talked, servants of the court were red-faced and merry, his fellow King and Queens were all having a wonderful time._

_Five years had passed since they had come into this glorious land, five whole years. Now, at the age of eighteen, King Peter had a new battle on his hands; that of trying to find a girl to take as High Queen, as was expected of him. So far, however, he couldn't find her, couldn't find anybody._

_With a small, wistful sigh, he went back to the table, and sat by Queen Susan, who graced him with a beautiful smile, having blossomed into an extremely sought-after seventeen year old. He smiled back, warmly, and then got stuck into the conversation of the days of the past, and the glorious future that stretched ahead of him._

xx

**But he that lacketh these things is blind, and cannot see afar off, and hath forgotten that he was purged from his old sins. **_**Peter **_**1:9**

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**A/N: It's short, sorry!, but it's just an introductory chapter. I promise the rest will be much longer. I should really be working on _Dubium,_ I know, but I really couldn't help but write this. I've got lots of plans for this story. Please review, it brightens my day:D**

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	2. Refusing to Dance

_Disclaimer: Narnia and the characters you recognise belong to C.S. Lewis._

**A/N: Alright, I might have lied a little about this being longer. However, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

xx

Lucy and Susan led the family across the streets, talking pleasantly and dressed their Sunday best, whilst behind them Edmund talked to Mr and Mrs Pevensie, and Peter walked on in silence. He felt better today than he had that Friday night when he'd lost some self-control and thought so much about Narnia. Nonetheless, a low mood had settled over him since then.

When faced with his siblings and parents, however, he put on his usual, cheery mask. There was no point worrying them with his own dreary feelings. The day was bright and cheery, the end of August, and the blue skies did help to brighten his dark thoughts. It was always there however, the doubting, the pain, lingering in the back of his mind.

Often, Peter would find himself wondering what his parents thought of their children. There was age in their eyes, age far beyond their bodies, glinting behind the irises and flashing whenever trying to show a particularly strong emotion. Didn't their parents realise? Didn't they know that their children were breaking apart?

"Peter," Mrs Pevensie called over her shoulder, "_do_ hurry up. We don't want to be late for the service."

"Sorry, Mother," he said, quickly, and caught up with his brother and parents. Edmund grinned at him as he did so, most likely taunting him silently for being somewhat scolded, but Peter simply smiled back. He barely, if ever, got mad with his brother anymore. They were best friends, really, despite the age gap of three years.

"Ah, here we are," Mr Pevensie smiled, as they turned a corner of a street to see their church across the road, which they crossed over together. As they went the sunlight caught onto Lucy and Edmund's blonde hair, and Peter smiled a little wider. He remembered, sweetly and painfully, days on the shore by Cair Paravel, the sunlight pouring onto to them and washing away any stress or worries.

The sun in England wasn't as bright, or beautiful, but he tried hard not to think about that.

They entered the small church, sitting down at the front and filling a whole pew by themselves. Peter sat between Susan and Edmund, the familiar heaviness returning at the sight of the crucifixes and the pictures adorning the place. Susan looked quite at home, her long white fingers brushing some dust from the bible in front of her, and Edmund looked comfortable, gazing around at the place with interest and warmth in his face.

Peter began to wonder why he was the only one with such silly fears when it came to religion and blasphemy, until he saw, beside Susan, that Lucy had her eyes closed, and her head bowed, her cheeks pink. There was something in her pained expression that touched him, that made him realise that perhaps he wasn't so alone.

"Su, can I change places with you?" he murmured to his sister, who started, but stood up for him as she registered his request. He smiled in thanks, and moved up, and Susan took his place, striking up conversation with Edmund. Peter looked down at Lucy, remembering what he had heard her sobbing the night before. She glanced up at the sound of movement, and he was alarmed but somehow unsurprised to see tears in her eyes.

Not knowing what to say - and having to remain silent, as the priest walked around to the front of the church - he simply took his youngest sibling's hand in his and squeezed it, wearing a smile to show her he was there and he understood.

She blinked, the tears somehow fading before they had fallen, and gave him half a smile.

xxx

"_Really,_ Edmund!" hissed Mrs Pevensie, as they stood to go, her face burning as well as Edmund's. "Falling asleep in church! I've never been so embarrassed! What's your excuse, young man?"

Peter was trying his hardest not to laugh, and behind him Susan and Lucy could be heard doing the same, at the horrified and embarrassed expression on his brother's face. He mumbled something under his breath, and Mrs Pevensie swiped him - not _too_ hard - on the shoulder, with her handbag.

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, alright?" Edmund muttered, rubbing his shoulder, and scowling at his brother and sisters. "I had a lot on my mind."

"That's no excuse, Ed," Mr Pevensie sighed, and Edmund bowed his head, ashamed. They walked down the aisle in a stiff silence after this - Peter, Susan and Lucy at the front, still suppressing giggles - but as they made to leave a pair of people also tried to use the doors.

It was a girl - well, a woman - of around twenty, holding the hand of a boy who could be no older than sixteen. They looked somewhat alike, and so Peter assumed they were brother and sister. She came to a halt, took a step back and motioned for the Pevensies to go in front of her, smiling.

"Oh no," said Peter at once, motioning himself. "You first."

"Thank you," the woman smiled, and she and her brother made their way out of the doors, into the sunny streets. The Pevensies soon followed, Edmund still blushing, and Lucy now giggling good-naturedly.

"You know," Mrs Pevensie said, thoughtfully, watching the backs of the pair Peter had let go in front of them. "I do believe that they're the pair who have moved in opposite us. I saw them in the garden yesterday."

"Should we go and introduce ourselves?" Mr Pevensie asked, sounding interested.

"I'll pop over tomorrow morning and welcome them," Mrs Pevensie said, decisively. "It might not be wise to bombard them with the whole family in one go. Especially not when _some_ of us evidently have no manners!"

She shot a dark look in her youngest son's direction, who rolled his eyes in turn. Peter laughed and clapped his brother on the shoulder. They walked on through the midday sun, chattering pleasantly amongst themselves, and Peter took a moment to examine Lucy. She seemed better now, talking to her father, and he was satisfied. He didn't want her hurting as much as he was.

"Peter," said a voice suddenly, and Susan took his arm, leading him a little ahead of the rest of the family. She was smiling sweetly, and Peter had an ominous feeling she was about to ask something of him. "Peter, I have a question for you."

Peter chuckled, raising his eyes to the sky. "Very well, let's hear it."

"Well, Mandy - _you_ know Mandy, blonde haired with big green eyes - well, we've both been invited to a party tonight, the Edisons are throwing one - and she needs a date. Will you --"

"Su," Peter interrupted her, and her pretty face fell. "Susan, you know I never say yes. I don't want to go to a party. I don't know your friends."

"But it will be fun!" Susan insisted, determinedly ."You need to either settle down or have fun, it's useless hanging around at home. You're being a bad influence on the other two."

"I am?" Peter asked, trying his hardest not to sound hurt. Sometimes Susan said things without considering how others would feel, and he knew he had to forgive her for this fault like always. It wouldn't do to start an argument with her. "What do you mean by settling down or having fun? There's nothing wrong with my life now."

Susan went a little pink, but pressed on. "Look, I don't mean it in a horrible way, Peter, you know that. It's just that most men your age either are making their lives - you know, with a full time job and with a wife, or are living their lives through parties and such. You just seem to live your live through your family, it's not right. Ed and Lu are turning out the same way, now, as well."

Peter frowned, heavily. "Come off it, Susan. Are you honestly saying I'm somehow _abnormal_? My life's fine as it is."

"I know," Susan sighed, though somewhat disapprovingly. "So how about this party tonight? You never know, you might enjoy it. You might meet a nice girl!"

"I'm fairly sure I will," Peter smiled, giving in. "But that doesn't mean I will want to dance with her, let alone _settle down_. However, I shall give in this once and come with you and whoever your friend is. Don't get used to it."

"Thank you!" she enthused, her dark green eyes glittering. "You'll have a _wonderful_ time, I'm sure of it!"

xxx

"Poor Peter!" Lucy gasped, barely able to breath through her laughter. At her side Edmund was clutching his sides, in hysterics, his face red from breathlessness. They trundled through the streets, heading home, their laughter echoing across the empty roads. It was eight in the evening, and they had just gone to glance in at the Edisons' party, to see Peter stood in the corner, seeming positively horrified at all of the frilly girls and smug boys around him.

"Susan didn't seem to impressed at his attitude," chortled Edmund, referring to the dark looks thrown across the room from dancing sister to standing brother. "We should have gone in and saved him, you know. It would be the noble thing to do."

"I'd rather not feel Su's wrath, thanks," Lucy laughed, wrinkling her nose. "Her friend - Mandy, was it? - didn't look too happy either. I don't think her date's exactly what she imagined him to be."

"Well," Edmund sighed, sobering up slightly. "It was silly of Susan to expect him to enjoy himself. Those girls aren't his sort, are they?"

"What _is_ his sort then?"

"You know, Lu, I just don't know," Edmund confessed, looking thoughtful. Lucy thought about it herself, and realised she, too, had no idea. "He's never courted, has he? I mean, not really even in - in Narnia."

"Narnia," Lucy repeated, just to taste the word on her tongue. Shaking herself, she realised that Edmund was finally talking about it, and smiled, widely. "You're right, even there he didn't find love. Do you think he ever will?"

"I hope so," Edmund sighed, looking at the sky, as they stepped onto their own road. "None of us have, yet, have we? I'm sure we all will. Peter's a nice chap, I'm sure he will."

"I don't know," Lucy replied, quietly, coming to a halt and looking down at her feet. Edmund walked on a few steps before realising he no longer had a companion. Frowning, he walked back to her, and she felt ashamed that once again tears were in her eyes. "Oh, Ed, I'm sorry."

"Stop being sorry," Edmund said, gently. "Look, come here."

He pulled her into a tight hug and she let out a great, shuddery breath, nestling her head into his shoulder. She was grateful for him, grateful for his caring and understanding nature. "I just don't know. Most girls my age are really different to me. What if I never find love, because - because, well, I don't know if I can ever love anything truly in this world."

"Do you love your family?"

"I - of course I do!"

"Well then, you can love in this world. You're a wonderful person and you'll find somebody, I'm sure of it."

"How can you be so sure, Edmund?"

"I can't," he confessed, voice cracking slightly as he admitted it. "I can't, no more than you can. The thing is, I'm sure of Him, and that's all that matters really, isn't it?"

"Aslan, or God?" she asked, pulling away and looking at him. His expression changed from concern to something indescribable as she asked it, and he gazed at her in silence for a moment or two.

"Both, Lucy," he whispered at last, as though letting go of a deep secret. "Both of them."

"You're sure enough that He'll forgive you for falling asleep in church, then?" she smiled, suddenly wanting this strange and serious air to end. She felt a huge rush of gratitude for Edmund, who understood, who _knew. _He laughed, messing up her blonde hair, before stretching and looking to the sky again. As he relaxed, his eyes fell upon the houses, and he straightened.

"Look sharp!" he said, suddenly, causing Lucy to jump. "We're being watched."

"Watched?" she asked, sharply, and followed his gaze. She realised that her brother was looking at the house across from their own, at the topmost window. The boy from earlier that day at the church, who had been holding his sister's hand, was staring down at them both. When he realised they both were looking back at him, he went red and turned away.

"I wonder what they're like?" Edmund asked, as he and Lucy made their way towards their own house. "The girl seemed polite enough earlier."

"She did," Lucy agreed, glancing back up at the window. "I'm sure we'll get to know them well."

As Lucy got into bed that night, she couldn't help but glance towards the window and wonder about the curious boy across the road.

xxx

**Watch therefore; for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come. **_**Matthew **_**24:42**

xxx

**A/N: Please review, I'd love to know what you think.**


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